The Accidental Heir. Susan Stephens

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      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘PRINCE KARL THORBERG as in the Karl Thorberg, world-renowned explorer?’ she asked, disbelief ringing in her words. ‘I didn’t recognise you.’

      Karl laughed but didn’t let her go. ‘No surprise there, Princess.’

      Indeed. The last time she had seen a photograph of the hunk with wanderlust, the prince had been shaved and polished, if a little just-out-of-bed rumpled in an attractive adventurer’s way, picking up some award or other from the Royal Institute. She had almost fallen asleep during a replay of the ceremony on TV, but had woken up fast when Karl came on the screen.

      ‘You can let this go now,’ he said, unpicking her fingers from the panic button she was clutching. ‘You won’t need it while I’m around.’

      Yes, she would! The way Karl was staring into her eyes said he knew the desires of her wayward body better than she knew them herself. There had never been a better time to wear a panic button. The Royal Council had insisted she wear an alarm, arguing that the numerous pretenders to the throne hadn’t given up hope of removing her as an obstacle on their path to power. She had eventually relented as the moonstone pendant etched with runic swirls that encompassed the button looked cool.

      ‘What are you doing?’ She clasped a hand to her chest a beat too late.

      ‘What does it look as if I’m doing, Princess?’ Karl swung the pendant in front of her eyes. ‘Like I said, you won’t be needing this while I’m around.’

      His fingers had only touched her for an instant and her senses were in free fall. This wasn’t good. ‘So why you?’ she pressed, trying to shake off the dizzying effect his heavily masculine presence was having on her. ‘Are you serious about being my tutor?’

      ‘Never more so. You want someone to give you a crash course on your lands beyond the Arctic Circle—’

      ‘And you’re a world authority,’ she said thoughtfully.

      ‘I am,’ Karl confirmed, stating this without conceit. ‘I don’t think there’s anyone better qualified.’

      And not just for that job, Astrid mused as she took in the full splendour of the man for the second time in as many minutes. ‘Modest, too,’ she commented.

      ‘Forthright,’ Karl argued.

      Some humour or warmth in that steely gaze wouldn’t go amiss. ‘Perhaps we should move on?’ she suggested.

      ‘I’m all for moving things on.’

      Wait. Was that humour in his eyes? Before she could make up her mind, Prince Karl was heading for the door. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked, glancing at the giant cinema screen. ‘I’ve got loads of films on the Arctic territories, so you don’t need to bother getting yours, if you’ve left them in your car.’

      Even a frown looked good on him. She loved the way his weather-beaten face crinkled. But that dip of his head as he glowered at her and the firm line of his mouth weren’t very encouraging. She shrugged. ‘What?’

      ‘Films?’ he queried.

      ‘Yeah, moving images. You’ve seen them before, I take it?’

      ‘What the hell are you talking about, Princess? Your people asked me to wait in here and you’d be along directly. They didn’t tell me I’d have to waste my time indulging you as you watch some heavily edited film.’

      ‘Well? What, then? I warn you, if you’re just going to drone on, I’ll probably fall asleep—’

      ‘You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?’

      ‘And you’re very rude. How dare you invade the royal palace and start laying down the law!’

      ‘I was invited here, if you remember, Princess. By you.’

      ‘My aide-de-camp issued the invitation for me. I just told him to get the best—’

      ‘And here I am, fresh from my latest expedition.’

      She huffed, inwardly shuddering at the steel in Karl’s voice. She hadn’t anticipated obstacles like Prince Karl Thorberg when she had accepted the throne. And now he was standing in front of her, blocking out the screen in a direct challenge to her authority. Remembering the Royal Council’s words of wisdom about appearing weak, she launched a counter-attack. ‘Well, if I hired you, I can fire you. I choose who I want. And I don’t want you.’

      But she needed him. It was becoming clearer in each passing moment that Astrid was in real trouble.

      She just didn’t know it yet. When the previous king had died without heirs and his council chose Astrid to be the next ruler, the wolves had closed in. Seeing a pretty young thing, every loser had imagined they were in with a chance—bed her, then wed her. Or, failing that, push her out of their way. Even pretenders from half a world away had come forward, announcing they had a better claim to the throne than she did.